Redemption
by PotterAnon
Summary: HPGW. Ginny, now in her early twenties, working at a national wizarding magazine, the Adder. She's just getting to enjoy life when she bumps into someone who has changed so much she barely recognises him. M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

_Ok, new story. I'm the middle of another one at the moment, but I wanted to test-drive this plot line. Tell me what you think, I can use all the help I can get. It'll eventually be Harry/Ginny, though I don't want to give anything drastic away._

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You know the deal - I don't own anything except the plot. Enjoy (please)! _**

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**Redemption**

**Chapter One**

Giovillies Tea Shop was run by Madam Madora, a slim, dark-haired woman with a huge smile, big dark eyes, and a pink apron. She had owned the shop since just after the fall of You-Know-Who, and it had been flourishing ever since. This morning, as usual, the airy little shop opened and a trickle of early-morning witches and wizards on their way to work stumbled in through the glass door and took up tired seats at the counter. The smell of coffee beans and stewing tea twisted up into the sunny air.

"Morning Madora," came a tired yawn, and Madora glanced up to see Ginny Weasley slumping onto a stool. "Usual please, and a bacon roll is there's one going."

"There always is for my best customer. Late one, was it?" she added, amused, as she splashed tea into a mug and added three heaped spoons of sugar and a lot of milk. Ginny was always tired this early in the morning.

"Yeah," she groaned. "We've got a peice running on the Aurors at the Ministry next month, and it's all double-check-this and triple-confirm-that. You know what they're like with security." Ginny Weasley worked in publishing, something for a big magazine. Madora didn't know a lot about what she did but, from what she could gather, she was pretty high up for someone so young.

"I'd have thought it'd be easier on you though, doesn't your brother and father work at the Ministry?"

Ginny beamed - she always did when her family came up in conversation. "Yeah, but that doesn't make a difference to the Auror department. Oh, did I tell you? Seems like I've told everyone else - Dad's up for the top-job. He might get Minister for Magic."

"That's great," Madora said. "I told you he was good for it."

"Should've listened, shouldn't I?" Ginny smiled, taking a huge bite out of her bacon roll. She held her red hair out of her eyes. "Thanks, Madora," she said, swallowing heavily. "I needed this. Can't wake up properly without a cup of tea in me."

"I'd noticed. That and one bacon roll a week."

"Rest of the time it's fruit, I'll have you know!" she laughed. "Only bacon on Mondays. Helps kick me into weekday-mode." She polished off the roll in another two quick bites, and sat back on her stool. "We've got an article on The-100-Greatest-Quidditch-Players-of-all-Time coming up soon. Any ideas?"

"Well, that's a tough one. You know I'm not one to follow the national teams. Only the internationals."

"So you're an England fan?" Ginny laughed. "Fair enough."

"What about your brother, think he'd be in there?"

"No. But that's nothing to do with him - it's because he's the one we've got doing the countdown."

"Ah, I see," Madora nodded. "So how is Ron? Coping well? This last one's his third isn't it."

She nodded over her mug. "Yep. He and the Missus are coming with me to a Ministry function end of this week. They're getting Mum to babysit the twins and Little Gin. Hermione'll be pleased - she hasn't got out a lot recently, what with the kids."

"I can understand that. If she's anything like my sister-in-law, you really don't want to let her get too near the Champagne if you can avoid it. After four tee-total years she'll be under the table after the third glass."

"Noted," Ginny said brusquely, draining her mug, and peering into the glass mirror behind the counter. She shook her head so that her fringe fell into one of her eyes and plyed her fingers through the strands to muse them up. "OK, I've got to go. See you tommorow Maddy."

* * *

She'd known it was going to be a busy day from the second she entered the building. Her magazine, the Adder, was housed in a five-story building just past Gringotts. It was national paper, coming out weekly, with over fifty journalists and associates - not including the people in Publishing, who made up half the company - working for the Editor-in-Chief, Adrien Long. Adrien was an interesting person, and she was on particularly good terms with him. She worked a couple of departments below him, flitting between Research and Imaging. 

The entrance hall was crammed full of Investors this morning, loads of people of varying degrees of robe - it went from a harsh-looking pin-stripped suit to a huge crimson flowery robe, with the head of a very eccentric-looking wizard poking out the top. Ginny wore jeans and a jacket - she had no need to wear robes or a uniform.

A harrassed security guard was trying get the group to file into the lift in an orderly fashion, and was meeting with limited success.

"Morning Mr Holme," Ginny yelled, waving. Holme gave her a tired sort of shrug and went back to the rabble. Ginny sunk her hands into her pockets and took the stairs, two-at-a-time.

She passed the Administration department on the way to her office and picked up her schedule for her free-lance assignments, and her messages, scrawled on to a piece of parchment that re-wrote them neatly and ordered them to priorities: "Cripplingly Un-important Rubbish"; "Vaguely Interesting"; "Ordinary but Necessary"; "Really Rather Urgent", and "If You Don't Attend To This Right Now This Very Second Something Very Very Very Bad Is Going To Happen Very Soon". She had a rather long list of "Really Rather Urgent"s, and "Vaguely Interesting".

She dumped her jacket onto the back of her chair and re-read her list, then she stood up again, picked up a folder on the corner of her desk, summoned a large pot of tea, and pinned the list next to a mirror behind her desk. After she'd helped herself of tea and settled herself on her desk looking into mirror, she tapped it with her wand.

"Ministry of Magic; Department of International Games and Sports; Ronald Weasley."

The surface of the mirror rippled like water caught in a sudden breeze. After several seconds, the face of a man with bright red hair much more vibrant than her own swum into view, pouring over a desk with a piece of toast in his hand.

"What can I do for you, Gin, I'm a little swamped here," he said, irritably. "I've got a Norweigian Minister trying to change the Internation Laws for broomstick handling inside the Penalty zone, and a Whizzbee Championship in Pansylvania to organize before May."

"Good luck with that," she said briskly, smirking. Her brother might act up-tight, but he loved his job. "I just wanted to confirm the first conference on the countdown article. Is next Wednesday at four still good for you?"

Ron grinned. "Should be fine," he said, waving his wand at his desk. Half the paper few into the air, and then sailed into the fire behind him. "I really should try to get organised," he mused. "I just don't have the bloody time."

Ginny laughed. "I better leave you to it then, I've got to be getting on myself."

Ron nodded and tapped his mirror with his wand. "Bye, sis."

Ginny looked to the next "Really Rather Urgent." _Contact Auror Office. Arrange first meeting, and introductions at Friday's Ministry Function._

Easier said than done. She couldn't just tap a mirror for the Auror Department - if only it was that easy. She'd have to go in person. She glanced at her list, noted three other things she could get done while she was at the Ministry, and grabbed her coat.

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The Ministry had always intimidated her - ever since her father had taken her into work with him a couple of times when she was younger. But she never allowed herself to show discomfort with - anything, actually. So she walked firmly up to the front desk and asked for Reggie Fellmort. 

She found him in his office, filing.

"Mr Fellmort," she said, shaking his hand. "Good to see you. I take it my clearance passed?" She remembered the extensive list of security proceedures she'd had to endure.

"Oh, yes, yes," he said kindly, smiling. He had a youthful face, dark hair, and piecing grey eyes, plus a scar across his left eye. Ginny grinned back, plainly attracted to him. "Yes, everything went through fine. Take a seat."

She sunk into a chair and leaned back. "I'm basically just here to confirm that you'll be coming down to the Adder's offices in couple of weeks. You, and whoever else you'd care to bring, that is," she added.

"I expect I'll find somebody who'd like to get out of the office," he smiled, "you'd be surprised how much paperwork there is involved in saving people from dark wizards, you know." He lifted his eyebrow coyly, and she cocked her head. He wasn't like any Auror she'd met before. Though, considering Tonks...

"That's great. So I'll contact you during the week," she rose, and he followed suit, walking her up through the building.

"That was a fast visit," he said, as they reached the telephone box in the Lobby. She grinned.

"It was - I'd allowed enough time to be searched at least three times before I was let into the Department."

"I'm sure a search could be arranged," he said smoothly. "We are experts after all..."

"As much as the sound of having expert Auror hands searching all over me is tempting," she said, "I think I'd better be going. I've got a lot to do before the end of the day."

Reggie Fellmort winked. "Another time, perhaps. Are you attending the Ministry Benefit on Friday?"

She nodded. "Absolutely."

"Good. I'll see you there."

"You certainly will," she grinned.

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_Ok, so I'm going to need some reviews, and also some Beta-ers - you've probably already found about ninety spelling and grammar mistakes in this first chapter alone! So any volenteers? Don't all rush at once... Also tell me whether you like where this is going._


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks a lot of you for reading and reviewing.A couple of you were a little off the mark about a couple of things, but no problem, I'm sure all will become clear! _

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**Redemption**

**Chapter Two**

Thursday evening found Ginny in the Ten Bells, the nearest bar to her flat just outside London, in a village called Heatherby Mills. It was a quiet bar, anchored in the churning hills my a scattering of old weather-wore buildings and small shops. She'd settled there for the simple reason that is was close to work - especially when one could Apparate - and that everything about the surronding area was quiet and peaceful and calm.

She didn't like to drink alone, which was good, because she knew almost everyone in the pub, and they were usually very happy for her to join them. This night she'd walked in on her way home, to find Neville Longbottom at the bar, nursing a tall frothy mug of beer.

"Neville!" she yelled in surprise - this was a Muggle village, a Muggle pub. Why on Earth would Neville be there?

"Ginny," he said, slipping off his stool to greet her. She surveyed him enthusiastically - _my God, when did he get so tall? _she thought, as her eyes took in his tall, slim figure, and rough dark hair. His hands, which had reached out to shake hers, were worn and callused, and his skin was a rich brown. He had a hint of a five-o'clock shadow on his chin, and bright blue eyes that she had never noticed at Hogwarts. Even his dirty finger nails didn't spoil him, they fitted somehow. "I thought I might find you here."

"Well, you did," she spluttered, amazed at the change in him. Even his voice had got deeper, more full. "Tuscany agreed with you," she said, unable to keep the awe from her voice.

"Thanks," he said confidently. "So does London with you, apparently."

She glanced down at herself, feeling very small under his steady gaze.

"Nah, this is just me." She realised they'd been shaking hands for the past five minutes. "Oh, what am I doing?" she said suddenly. "Come down here and give me a hug!"

He did. She was shocked by the lack of hestitation, lack of awkwardness, lack of bumbling, tripping or gawping. Neville was nothing at all like what she remembered.

"I haven't seen you since my sixth year," she said, grabbing a stool next to him and turning it a full ninety degrees so she could look at him.

"Yeah, I've been busy," he replied, lifting his drink. She watched his arm muscles flex, heat rising to her face. "I've been researching."

"Yeah, I heard about that. You've been searching the field for new specimins?"

He nodded. Neville had gone into Herbology when he'd left Hogwarts. It had evidently been the best move in his career - he looked lean and fit and healthy and pleasantly weather-beaten. That and I tremendous boost to his self-confidence.

"I've got to say, Neville, you are looking fantastic," she admitted, grinning. Neville beamed shyly.

"Thanks," he mumbled, blushing. "So, um... you're a writer now?"

"Uh-huh," she said. "On-and-off. I'm a free-lancer. I do a bit of photography as well though."

He raised his eyebrows. "Really? I was a bit surprised when I saw your name under that column you wrote on the Demolition of the Dementors. I thought you'd have gone into the Ministry like the others."

She shrugged. "Well with two brothers and Dad there, plus Hermione at St. Mungo's..."

"You thought you'd go the other way," he smiled. "I get it. But you've got quite a bit to do with them, I hear. You're going to the Benefit?"

"Is there anyone I know who isn't?" she laughed. "Every single person I've spoken to in the past twenty-four hours seems to be going."

"And I'm not breaking your run - I'll be there too."

"That's great," she replied. "I could use a chance to catch up - I want to know about everything that happened since we lost chance."

"OK, when was that? Just after the Great Defeat, wasn't it?"

Ginny swallowed. The Great Defeat. That was when it had all gone belly-up. It stung her hard in the chest, and she found herself with an unintentional frown on her face.

"Oh, Ginny, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to drag anything up for you--"

"No," she said, forcing her voice steady. "No, it's alright. I just don't tend to think about it very much anymore. Ever since then, things haven't been the same. Well..." she trailed off. That wasn't entirely true.

"Want to talk about it?" Neville said softly. She looked at him, so bright and successful and flourishing. She nodded, grabbed a drink, and led him over to a corner of the pub.

"It wasn't all bad all of a sudden," she went on. "I mean, everything was great, for a while. Ron and Hermione got together, Harry had absolutely nothing to worry about..." She heard the name, but it seemed strange and disconnected. She hadn't spoken it in years. "He played Quidditch, Ron too for a while. Hermione went to St. Mungo's to train. I went back to Hogwarts... it was great."

"Then the press?" Neville promted grimly, taking a mouthful of ale.

"Yes, that. All those owls, all that attention, all that admiration and appreciation. It just... went to his head. Can you blame him?" Neville shook his head. "Harry carried on with us for a while, didn't he? But we never, you know, made anything out of it. He'd start looking around, and realised that he could ahve any other girl he wanted. I understood, I mean, he'd earned it, hadn't he? He'd gone through all that, he'd done just what everyone hoped he would, he found the Horcruxes, vanquished Voldemort... et cetera, et cetera."

"That didn't give him the right to--"

"It did though," Ginny bit as Neville interrupted. "It gave him every right. I can't blame him for wanting to... sample other things. He'd lived him whole life in isolation and suddenly he could do anything he'd ever wanted to do, and no one could think the worst of him. He just started believing himself to be the hero he was. He got a little carried away, that's all."

"He's still a little carried away," Neville said, slightly bitterly. "Did you see that newspaper report last week? 'The Boy Who Vanquished the Dark Lord: Harry Potter in Flaming Love Triangle'. I mean, come on, some of us would be happy with just the one girl..."

Ginny grinned, and eyed Neville's profile. "Something tells me you're not having any trouble there," she smiled, patting his hand. "Besides, it might all have been hype."

"He doesn't care enough to correct it, I should think. He's so used to all the gossip and rumours that one more doesn't matter."

She agreed. "He's still working in the Auror office then?"

"In Iraq, last I heard. Not sure why, though."

"I was in the Auror office today, I'm glad he isn't in the country."

"Is Harry still in contact with Ron and Hermione?" Neville frowned.

"I think so," she shrugged, "but just barely. After he ditched us I think they sort of just concentrated on each other. And you should see where it got them," she added with a grin. "They're onto the third."

"Really?" Neville said again. "That's wonderful. How old are they all?"

"The twins are seven, five minutes each way, and Little Gin is nearly four."

"Little Gin?" he repeated, grinning. "After you?"

She beamed. "I told them not to, but..."

Neville laughed, then looked down at his wrist. "Ouch, it's getting on a bit." He drained his glass. "I've got to be somewhere."

"Lady-friend?" Ginny smiled.

"Might be," he said, blushing again. "Bye, then. I'll see you on Friday."

Ginny hadn't thought about Harry in a long time, and thanks to that, she hadn't actually considered his behaviour either. When she thought about it now, she admitted that perhaps she hadn't been hard enough on him over the years. She'd always been the first to defend him when someone had put him down, but now, when she considered it again... Sometimes there just wasn't an excuse for being a haughty, arrogant son-of-a--

Angrily, she put Harry Potter to the back of her mind, and thought instead about Reggie Felmort.

Reggie Fellmort had seemed like a nice kind of guy, open and friendly, unusual for an Auror. She found herself looking forward to the Ministry Benefit with a lot more optimism than she had previously expected to. This was shaping up to be a pretty good night.

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_How's it going? Let me know please! Next chapter - the Ministry Benefit, and unexpected surprise._


	3. Chapter 3

**Redemption**

**Chapter Three**

She had never really got out much into these damn Ministry engagements before now, but this one seemed to be heading in the direction of something important, or at least, something more interesting than usual. She loved her job, and usually she loved the parties and publicity that went along with it. But the Ministry functions were always way less satisfying - full of balding stuffy old men and croaky witches in stuffed bird hats.

But this evening she'd made a night of it - she'd had a bath, invited Hermione over, told Ron to stay the Hell away, broke out teh good wine and picked out her clothes with particular care. Even Hermione seemed to be enjoying being pampered.

"It feels really good," she said happily, lounging around on Ginny's plush leather sofas and sipping the expensive Rosé, "just to be out of that damn house. I was starting to feel like a full time bottle-come-food-despenser-come-toy-box-come-entertainments-manager. The sooner I'm back at work, the better."

"I'd have thought you'd have had enough of looking after people for a while," Ginny mused.

"I've had enough of looking after kids! But when September gets here, Little Gin'll be in school and I can go back to Mungo's!" she raised her glass.

Ginny raised her bottle - she'd always been a beer-girl. "Hear, hear! To St. Mungo's!" They clicked the glass togather and took three heavy gulps each. Smacking her lips, Ginny sighed.

"I sense an untold secret," Hermione smiled. "Come on, tell all."

Ginny shook her head. "It's nothing," she lied.

"Liar."

"Fine," she relented. "There may be someone going tonight who I may have my very selective eye on, all right?"

Hermione giggled. "Who?"

"An Auror. His name's Reggie Fellmort. Nice bloke, I'll introduce you."

"So," Hermione asked, after a satisfyed nod. "What are you wearing? Time's getting on - we should change."

Ginny smirked, and pulled of a long, flowing robe of scarlet silk from behind her bedroom door.

"Ginny, all that's good for is sleeping in!" Hermione hissed, scandelised. Ginny grinned.

"That was precisely what I was aiming for..."

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Ron was barely able to stop himself telling Ginny to turn straight around and get changed. But Hermione nudged him - very hard - in the ribs, and he was distracted half by pain, and half by his wife. She was giggling.

"How much have you had to drink already?" he asked, smiling, as they entered the Ministry Entrance Hall. Hermione just grinned, put both her hands behind his head and kissed him.

"Not nearly enough," she said, grabbing hold of a glass of complimentary Champagne from a passing Elf, adorned with a Ministry-stamped pillowcase, the plight of the Elves temporarily forgotten. "Here, drink, you've got to catch up with me and Gin."

Ron gave his sister a look of disbelief. She shook her head.

"I'm fine - I've been on beer. Plus 'Mione could never handle her drink." Ron laughed, and spent the rest of the evening steering Hermione away from Elves with alcohol.

"Ginny," she felt a hand on her elbow, and turned around. Neville was standing there, clean and suited, next to a short, blonde-haired witch with gorgeous brown eyes and a big smile. She grinned.

"Wow. Hey Neville - I knew where successful but..."

The woman blushed, sliding her hand around Neville's slim waist.

Ginny held out her hand. "Ginny Weasley. I was at Hogwarts with Neville."

"Marie Hundson. Pleasure to meet you." She seemed sincere - something unusual in Ginny's line of work. "I take it I meet with your approval?"

"I'm not worth seeking the approval of," Ginny said. "But if you want it I'd be all too happy to give it."

"Good," Marie smiled. "C'mon," she added to Neville, who looked blissful. "You can buy me a drink," and she led him off. He shot Ginny a grin before he ducked his head and whispered something into Marie's ear, making her giggle. Ginny felt another hand, this time on the small of her back, and she turned again. Why did people always have to sneak up on you at these things? But she wasn't annoyed for long.

"Hello," Reggie Fellmort said, smiling. Ginny grinned, shaking her fringe out of her eyes to see him better.

"Evening," she said brightly. "How's it been?"

"Ghastly," he smiled, mocking. "You know what these things are like. Can I introduce you to some people?"

"My pleasure," she said lightly. "Always happy to meet people at the Ministry..." He laughed. She wasn't sure why, but she liked it.

He kept his hand on her back, and led her over to the buffet table. Food always tended to distract her, but she ignored the table - she'd get something later. Reggie introduced her to Felius Mugwort, Grevious Naliger and Henry Leggings, as well as a black haired witch called Neiva Droger. Aimless small talk ensued, before Ginny turned to Reggie.

"I've got someone I'd like you to meet too," she said quietly, pulling him away with polite nods to the others, gripping his hand. Finding excuses for physical contact was easy at these things. She found Hermione and Ron at a corner table. He had his wife on his lap, cradling her and laughing at her murmurings.

"Ron, this is Reggie Fellmort, Reg, this is my brother, Ron Weasley. And that was his wife Hermione... but she appears to have had a little too much to drink." Ron looked faintly embarrassed at the state of his wife but Reggie just smiled knowingly.

"Understandable at these things. Boring, aren't they?"

"You're telling me," her brother said emphatically, and he went off into a long rant about how bloody annoying these bloody work dos are, and how hard tried to bloody well get out of it. Reggie just agreed, giving Ginny occasional sidelong glances.

"Ronnie," Hermione gushed suddenly, her arms clinging around Ron's neck and her eyes not focusing very well. "Ronnie, can we go home? I miss my babies, I want to see my little babies... Oh, hello Big Gin..."

Ginny blushed. "I wish I was Little Gin," she said to Reggie. He laughed again.

"Can we go?" Hermione continued, leaning in very close to Ron. He winced, but grinned. "I need my little babies home. I need them to be at home. I need to be at home. I want to go to bed. Can we go to bed when we get home? The kids're at Molly's... we can go to bed..."

The meaning of her sentence, having transmuted into a brand new and, to Ron very appealing, meaning, Hermione blearily tried to undo Ron's tie. He blushed.

"That's it, I'm taking her home. I told you not let her have any wine, Ginny," but he wasn't really annoyed, in fact he looked like her was thoroughly enjoying himself. He stooped, gathered up his wife in his arms and carried her towards the exit, muttering, "well... least you'll be able to tell this as the story of how your fourth niece or nephew was conceived. Bye Ginny."

Ginny and Reggie laughed as soon as they were out of ear-shot. Ginny slipped her hand into Reggie's and led him over towards the fountain. They sat on the shallow ledge next to each other. Ginny crossed her leg, her gown rippling lightly.

He held up his glass. "So... to...?"

"To..." Ginny smiled. "To marriage, and all the opportunities it affords."

Reggie chuckled. "To marriage. To... Ministry gatherings."

Ginny nodded, and repeated, "Ministry gatherings... To... making Ministry gatherings bearable..."

Ginny smiled softly, looking at his mouth with a new hunger. After a few too many seconds, she looked up. Reggie was still smiling at her. She leaned forward, breathed next to his mouth and brushed her lips against his ear.

"That was your cue, Reg," she said quietly.

"Ah," he smiled, nodding. "Got ya..."

She felt his breath on his mouth, his knee touching hers... then, just as she was closing her eyes, his nose scuffing hers, her gaze flickered over the silvery water below them, and she spotted a reflexion that made her jolt back as if Reggie carried a live electrical current.

Two green eyes, ruffled black hair, and an arrogant, self-assured smirk. Harry Potter.


	4. Chapter 4

_OK, first things first - gratuitous apologies for the really, really long wait. Bet you all thought I'd completely given up on this. But no, I'm back. Considering how long it's been since I last updated, you'd've thought I'd done more than this, but I need to get back into the swing of things. Those waiting on more from _'Conversion'_ - I promise I'll have more soon._

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****Redemption**

**Chapter Four**

Harry Potter had been watching them from the other side of the fountain.

Her chest exploded. So many thoughts and feelings collided within her that she temporarily forgot herself. Her mouth dropped open.

"Bloody hell."

Next to her, Reggie turned around. And leapt to his feet.

"Harry!" he said, reaching out a hand. "Good to see you! Didn't think you were back from the Gulf 'til later this month?" Reggie took Harry's hand and hugged him briefly, patting him heftily on the back.

"I got finished early," Harry replied lightly, glancing at Ginny, with a look that clearly said: Yep, that's right, early. I got the mess all cleared up early. Early early early... He tilted his head up, casting a satisfied look of calculation down his nose at her. She wasn't at all comfortable with the way his eyes roamed over her, taking her in through his same, round-rimmed glasses.

"Good man," Reggie said, diminishing in her opinion before Ginny's eyes. "Here, there's someone I'd like you to meet..."

"We've already met," Harry said quickly, smirking at her. "Ginny Weasley was my best friend's sister."

"Was," she repeated coolly. "But you know how people drift, eh, Harry?"

She glared at him, but he just looked right back at her, that arrogant over-confidence remaining. "I do know," he said smoothly. "But I wish I didn't. I can't imagine how I could have let you drift, Ginevra Weasley. You look stunning."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Evidently you must have considered me not nearly attractive enough for you over the years, Harry. How long has it been now? Three, four years? Unfortunately I seem to have succeeded in making your recommended shag-ability list in the meantime, and you missed it."

He did not crumble under pressure, but tilted his head to the side, looking down at her.

"A heinous oversight," he said, with half a grin and sparkle in his eyes.

"Don't worry, Harry, in my business you get used to ignorant arrogance and falsehood. I can tell you now that I give very little credit to much about you, and I don't need to start."

"And what business would that be?" he replied, taking nothing on the chin. She suspected that the crimson folds of her attire were responsible for his thick skin.

Reggie, eager to insert himself into the conversation, answered.

"Ginny's in the media," he said. "Journalism."

"Ah? So you're a writer. I'm not surprised. You've always been a passionate and outspoken person."

Ginny smiled - not a flattered smile, but a small, strained one.

"So were you, for a time. Tell me, have you spoken to Ron or Hermione since you got back? I'm sure they're dying to see you."

"I haven't had the pleasure yet," he said.

"Then let me give you the opportunity - they're having a celebration at the Burrow soon. You're welcome to come." She did not think he was all that welcome, but it would give her an ideal opportunity to attempt to embarrass him; expose him for the git he really was.

"That's perfect," he said. He pulled and card from his inside pocket. "Here's my number--"

"No, you're alright," she said, attempting sweetness. She tucked her hand into her purse, and took out her own card. She pushed it into his hand. "Take mine. Call me."

And she stalked off. Harry quirked up his eyebrow in a bemused sort of way, and pocketed the card.

* * *

Ginny hoped against hope that she had double-bluffed him, that he'd take her frostiness as read and avoid the party. But when he turned up at the Burrow, wine in one hand and a bunch of flowers in the other, she was sadly disappointed.

"Ginny," he said mildly, as she opened the door. "Here, these are for your mother."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure you can walk a few feet and give them to her yourself, Harry."

"Harry!" came her mother's excited squeal from behind her. Ginny threw a haughty, calculating glance down Harry's body, and then ducked and slipped out of the way as her mother, father, and half of her family enveloped Harry. She wandered out across the kitchen and sat down at the kitchen table, crossing her legs and attempting the pervade an aura of frosty discontent with his presence.

Indeed, it took Harry, as Ginny had known it would, a very long time to extricate himself. When he finally did, his jacket was hanging off one of his shoulders and his hair was standing on end. Although, it could have started like that.

Ginny avoided Harry for most of the day, except when food was served, and she encountered him complimenting her mother's cooking loudly and appreciatively and telling everyone what a fire-ball she'd become, and then later, when the fire-flies came out and he hovered behind her while she swung idly from the garden swing, watching the heavens.

"Hello, Ginny," he said lazily, taking up a near-by tree stump. "I feel as though I haven't spoken to you all day."

"You haven't, thankfully," she said smoothly, not turning her attention on him.

"So cruel, Ginevra, so sharp-tongued. What is it that could have possibly made you into such a bitter individual."

"Life, Harry. Occasionally it bites you on the behind too many times, and you learn not to sit down."

She felt Harry smirk behind her. "That must get tiring."

"Not after you're used to it. But I expect you spend an un-ordinate amount of time on your arse as it is Harry, so I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"I understand," Harry began, from way too close behind her, startling her, "that you have a few unpleasant memories associated with me, Ginny." She felt her stomach leave her, and her eyes suddenly caught the starry sky. Then her head hurt. She'd fallen backwards from the swing. No - Harry had pulled her.

"Harry James Potter," she fumed, calmer then she'd expected, as she lay in the grass, legs hooked around the swing, "come here."

Grinning smugly, Harry dropped onto one knee over her. She gestured for him to come closer.

When he was low enough that she could feel his breath on her face, she smiled.

"Now I have another one." Ginny pulled back her fist, and whacked Harry, hard, on the jaw. He jerked backwards, his hands flying out into the wet grass, and he landed with a heavy thump on the muddy ground. "Now piss off."

Scowling, spitting, and clinging to his quickly-purpling face, Harry turned tail in silence, and retreated back into the house.

* * *

The bathroom door would not open. Ginny put her ear to one of the fogged glass panels and listened. She could hear mild grumbling, and the occasional curse. With satisfaction, she realised it was Harry Potter.

"...bloody woman... fucking great bruise... little arse..." She heard the door to the bathroom cabinet open and close, and she could see in her mind's eye, Harry taking one last bitter look in the mirror, rubbing his jaw, and heading towards the door.

Ginny smirked vindictively, and lent on the door-frame.

Harry started when he saw he, his mouth dropping open. Ginny glanced at his purple cheek.

"You look stunning," she said brightly.

He looked torn between anger and rage.

"No, really," she went on, smiling sweetly. "Black and blue really suits you."

Harry's jaw tightened. "Why are you being like this, Gin?"

"You can't call me that," she hissed. "You lost that right when you lost all the others - when your head got so far up your own arse you couldn't see daylight any more."

He blinked, but something inside him had clicked. Ginny could see, right before her eyes, a shroud of haughty arrogance being drawn around him.

"Well," he said lightly, tipping his head slightly to the side. "I can't say I won't be able to use another war scar." Ginny's eye was immediately drawn to his shoulder, where a shallow laceration had healed and formed a jagged scar. Below that four deep wounds had left their mark, and further, just cut off by his trousers, was a semi-circular scar, like a crescent moon.

At that point, Ginny realised that she was staring. And, with annoyance, that she had been staring for several minutes, and that she was still staring at, his crotch. Helpless to stop the rush of blood to her face, Ginny looked up. Harry was looking smug. Ginny shoved past him into the bathroom and locked the door.


	5. Chapter 5

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_A very short one. This is basically to help me get back on track after a few months off. Sorry for the delay - I've been busy with college coursework. I'll try to get back to it. Again, sorry for any bits of shoddy spellwork._

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**Redemption**

**Chapter Five**

Ginny swept into Madora's on Monday morning, still feeling the effects of Harry Potter's presence. She had been perpetually argry since Saturday, and it showed no signs of lifting.

"How was your family thing?" Madora asked, placing a bacon roll and a cup of tea before Ginny and retreating out of firing range.

"Awful," Ginny spat, scowling. "You'll never guess who bloody well turned up."

"Harry Potter," Madora supplied. "I heard."

"Where from?"

"Just heard a rumour. How was it?"

"Infuriating. That arrogant son of a--"

"Ginny!"

"--really get's on my nerves!" Ginny huffed. "And what's more, the rest of my family adore him, like they can't see that what he did, leaving us after all we did for him, isn't unforgivable! I mean it's ridiculous, I feel like I'm only one with my eyes in my head in that house!"

Madora watched her.

"What?"

"Maybe they don't see it's unforgivable because they think it is," she said gently.

Madora, who almost never gave an opinion on her customers problems, flicked her wand at the counter and a cloth began polishing of its own volition. Ginny sat, stunned.

"They think its alright that he completely disregarded us for years on end? They think he was right to abandon us and go off in search of fame and glory for himself? They think he isn't self-obsessed and unbareable?"

"Ginny, d'you have any proof that any of what you just assumed is true?" Madora shook her head at the dim look on Ginny's face. "I didn't think so. Are you sure," she added, leaning forward, "that you are seeing things like this impartially, or are you being influenced by personal feelings? Resentment at his leaving you, perhaps, not them. Jealousy towards the people he's met and the things he's seen? Frustration that once he relied upon you for love and stability, that he no longer needs?"

It took Ginny a moment to digest everything Madora had said, and when she had, her bacon roll had lost its taste to her.

"Nah, that's just bollocks," she said eventually, way too late to be believable. Madora gave her a significant look, and returned to the kitchen.

* * *

When Ginny slipped into her office, subdued, at the end of the day to collect her coat and check her messages, she found something she most certainly had not been expecting.

Reggie Fellmort.

Ginny balked. She'd forgotten about Reggie, and had treated him less than civily at the Ministry party.

"Ginevra Weasley," he said quietly, light falling through the window behind him and darkening his face. Still Ginny could sense an edge to his voice that had not been there before.

Nodding, she crossed the room to him and reached to shake his hand. "Yeah, I'm okay. You?" she replied, glancing towards her hand. He did not shake it, but glared at it, his luminescent grey eyes cutting straight to her stomach and making it feel like she'd swallowed a large ice cube. He looked up, and she saw a darkness behind his eyes that make her chest tighten. "Reggie?" she asked softly, lowering her hand slowly.

Reggie's own hand reached out quickly, flashing out towards her wrist. Out of nowhere a bolt of red light steaked past her and knocked his hand away, and Reggie hissed and leapt back, glowering over her shoulder. Ginny spun around, to see Harry Potter filling the doorway, wand aloft, and panic in his eyes.

"Did he touch you?" he spat.

"Harry... What are--"

"Did he touch you?" he repeated loudly, striding into the room and pushing his wand into Reggie's sternum.

"N-no, he didn't Harry, but why are you--"

"Hold on."

Harry turned back to Reggie, and lifted the man's chin with the tip of his wand. Ginny saw dark, watery patterns swirling across the pewter irises of Reggies eyes. She backed off, drawing her own wand from the pocket of her jeans.

Ginny realised that Harry was speaking. He was not talking directly to her, but was reciting something dark and foreign under his breath. Then suddenly Harry raised his second hand behind the handle of his wand and threw a considerable amount of wait behind it, driving his wand forward. The point sunk through Reggie's chest as if it were clay, and a bright scarlet light erupted from Reggie's chest. It flared, roared, then rose angrily up towards the ceiling and dispersed into the air.

Ginny blinked, swallowing. His chest was heaving.

"What the fuck was that?" she breathed heavily, her words getting stuck in her throat. Looking past Harry, she saw Reggie slump and crumple to the ground. "Harry? Is he dead? What's going on?"

Harry shook his head. "He's not dead. It's worse than that. C'mon, help me pick him up. We've got to get him back to the Burrow. I'll explain there."


	6. Chapter 6

_Hey, another update. Still trying to get back into the story properly, but I'm getting there, but it's still a little short. Still, better than revision for AS exams, I s'pose. Anyway, sorry for any spelling mistakes - I was on a roll and my spell-checker's broken._

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**Redemption**

**Chapter Six**

Ginny leant in the corner of the sitting room as Harry and Ron placed Reggie onto the worn out old sofa. She was frowning so hard that it was almost painful, but it was the only way to stop herself exclaiming as she watched Reggie's head roll horribly on his slack shoulders.

As soon as Harry had seen to him, he turned around slowly, sinking his hands into his pockets and peering at her through a mass of ruffled black hair.

"Are you alright?" he asked quietly, his green eyes boring into her. Unsettled, Ginny nodded.

"Fine."

"You don't look it."

* * *

She shrugged. "I'm fine." 

Harry wouldn't stop staring at her. "Ron, I need to talk to you," he said, his gaze still trained on her.

"I'll go--" she began to say, but as she made to sweep past Harry out of the room, he caught her arm.

"Go to your room. Stay there, okay?"

She shrugged again. "Okay."

As soon as she got into the hall, a dull anger tugged at her. Harry clearly was keeping something important from her, and had sent her to her room. Sent her to her room? What was she, three? She twisted, intending to head back the sitting room. She paused when she heard Harry's heavy sigh from inside the room.

"Harry, you don't think it's happening again, do you?" Ron was saying. "I thought you'd sorted this years ago."

"So did I!" Harry retorted. Ginny jumped back from the door slightly, surprised by the volume, then pressed her ear to the door.

"What are you going to do?" said Ron at last, after a very lengthly pause.

"I don't know, I just don't know," she heard say. She could almost see him running a tireless hand through his hand in her mind's eye. "I guess I'll have to leave again, then, won't I?"

"But you just got here! There's got to be something else you can do--"

"Ron! If there was, don't you think I'd have done it by now? I thought I'd finally given this... curse of mine the bloody slip, but no... every time I come back, everytime I get anywhere near her--"

"Harry, you can't think that this thing _specifically_ searches out you and--"

"Yeah, Ron, yeah I do. Look at what happened last time."

There was another long pause. Ginny swallowed, having realised that her throat was dry and sticky. She heard three loud thumps, and felt a terrible shiver for a moment as she thought one of them might be coming to the door. She realised that however it was, though, was moving away from the door.

"Harry, don't... don't do this. For Merlin's sake, you've got to try."

"I know, I know I should, but there isn't time. If I stay, how long will it be before someone else ends up like Reggie, and she isn't safe. All it needs is a two-second gap, three clear inches, and there's skin-to-skin contact. It's not possible."

"But..." Ron said, almost too quietly for Ginny to hear. She pressed her ear closer to the dor and released a breath she hadn't realised she's been holding. "But, you belong together Harry. You've always known it. You always will. Just because she's too stubborn to see it, it doesn't mean you--"

"Ron! It doesn't matter! If I stay, Ginny dies. I can't let that happen."

* * *

There were a couple of quiet knocks at her bedroom door. She heard them blurrily though, as if she were submerged under water. She stood up, straightened her pyjama trousers, and stalked towards the door. The handle was cold to her hand, but that might have been because of the hot flush creeping down her back.

"Ginny?"

Opening the door a few inches, she leant on the door frame.

"What?"

"Can I come in?" Harry asked, looking at her reservedly through the gap. His eyes glinted coolly, his hand resting around the door frame, looking as though he was prepared for the eventuality of her trying to slam the door in his face. She seriously considered it - even with his fingers at stake - for a moment. After a few minutes eyeing him though, she pulled the door wide open and turned her back on him, returning to the comfort of her bed in the corner.

"What can I do for you, Harry?" she asked, sitting cross-legged on the mattress and glaring up at him.

"Er... can I sit down?" he asked, shifting uncomfortably. As much as she knew she shouldn't be, Ginny was thoroughly enjoying seeing him relatively devoid of self-centred importance.

"No. Talk first, sit later."

He blinked. "Um. Right. Er, okay then. Well, Ginny--"

"What is it, Harry?" she asked, adopting a softer tone of voice. She attempted to project an aura of calm openess. "I know it's important. What happened to Reggie?"

"He... he wasn't well."

"Despite the fact he was standing and looking perfectly healthy?"

Harry nodded. "Er, yeah."

She laughed gently, sighing. "Sit down Harry, you'll have to do better than that." Harry perched cautiously on the edge of her bed, staring at the floorboards. "How is Reggie now, Harry?"

"He's... fine. He'll be fine. He'll be okay, anyway, eventually. He's... got to recover."

"From his illness?" Ginny smiled gently, and raised her hand to stroke Harry's back, rubbing the space between his broad shoulders. Surprised, Harry looked up questioningly. She smiled again. "Just tell me what you know, Harry."

He nodded again. "The truth is," he said, "I don't know. I have no idea what's wrong with him. I know it's Dark, Ginny, though, and that's why I've got to take him away."

"Away where?" she asked, maintaining the circular motions over his back. She felt anger prickling at the back of her mind - he knew more than he was telling, judging from his conversations with Ron.

"Just... away, Ginny. For a while."

"A long while?"

He paused. "Maybe, yes." His eyes wandered helplessly down her neck.

Ginny slipped her hand underneath his shirt, and felt him start. "Then I might not see you again for a long while, Harry?"

He looked at her, swallowing several times. Finally he shook his head, dropping his eyes to the ground. "No. Maybe not."

Ginny's hand paused, and she leant her head on his shoulder. "Have you told Ron?"

"Yeah. He's fine with it."

"Good. Then he won't be coming up here to bother us." Ginny felt Harry jump again, and he looked around. Just as he did, though, she pressed her lips to his.

For a moment all she felt was his surprise. Then suddenly he was kissing her back, and turning to shove her back into her pillows, his hand moving smoothly on to her leg and gliding upwards, his mouth wet and heavy and shockingly gentle. With the air of someone starved of oxygen he breathed her in, seemingly taking every second to savour it intensely.

Moving firmly, Ginny pushed him over, rolling him onto his back, straddling him. She could feel him straining in his jeans, and reached over him towards her bedside table, her mouth closed securely over his.

She pushed her wand to his throat, and he gurgled, before spluttering.

She tugged her mouth from his with a crisp, damp parting. His eyes were tilted in confusion.

"Gin--"

"Shut up, Harry!"

He did, gasping as she forced her wand tighter to his neck.

"Tell me everything you know! Now," she snapped. She twisted her wand so Harry felt the tip turn again his skin.

"Everything, Gin, 'cause I know I lot of stuff..." he said quietly. He was frowning - clearly she'd offended his pride. She realised - he'd really cared, before. To him it wasn't just a kiss, it was a kiss with her... He actually liked her, and she'd used it against him...

Anger burned in her chest, and some of it erupted in hot, pink sparks from the end of the wand. They crackled close to Harry's face, and he turned away from them. She had his arms clasped to his body with her knees.

"Is that your wand, Harry, or are you just pleased to see me?" she laughed, as she rummaged through his pockets. Pulling his battered-looking wand from his trouser pocket, she threw herself back off him, pointing both wands at him. Gingerly Harry sat up, rubbing his elbows where they'd been crushed against him. "Okay, now that we've established that you are in no position to play comedian, I think I should know that I heard everything you and Ron were talking about downstairs." Harry's eyes widened. "I'm going to die if I get to near to you," she shrugged. "Yet it didn't stop you getting pretty close a few minutes ago, did it, Potter? Was that part of the plan, or what? What was that?" she added, realising she'd quite like to know.

Harry looked shakey. _As well he might,_ she thought cruelly. Although she probably had caused him considerable embarrassment by remaining more truely detached than he had on this occasion.

"That... that was nothing, Ginny. Nothing." She watched him grasping for an explaination. "I haven't had sex in a very long time. I'm desperate."

"Yeah, okay Harry," she said gently. "Whatever you say." She straightened her arms slightly. Harry's green eyes darted between the two wand tips.

"You wouldn't hurt me, Gin," Harry said. "Haven't got it in you."

She tilted her head to the side slightly. "Is this right?"

"Of course."

"Hmmm. Well, maybe you're right," she conceeded, lowering the wands.

"Well, then, Ginny, if you could give me my wand back?" Harry held out his hand.

Ginny flung out her wand hand, and Harry was thrown off the bed into the wall on the other side of the room. He slumped to the ground, his head lolling on his shoulders.

"Well," Ginny breathed quietly. "I did say 'maybe'..." She shoved the wands into the pyjama pocket, and rubbed the back of her neck, trying to suppress the hot feeling on her mouth and neck where Harry's lips had grazed her.

* * *

_Comments? Yes please._


	7. Chapter 7

**Redemption**

**Chapter Seven**

Harry was stirring. Ginny sat back on her bed, the wands in the her hand, and watched him as he sat up, rubbing his temples. He looked up, searching for her, and when he saw her he leapt up and backed across the room into the wall. For a few seconds, he stared at her, his back pressed against her flowery wallpaper.

"I cannot believe you did that, Ginny," he said quietly, shaking his head.

"It was necessary. At least you know I'm serious now," she replied.

Harry's expression suggested that he definitely believed that.

"So what now, Ginny? You're going to keep me captive up here? I can't tell you what I don't know."

She stood up, and raised the wands again.

"But you do know, Harry. I heard you talking with Ron, and you know a lot more than you're letting on. If this is going to effect me so completely, I want to know exactly why you seem to think that I could die. Why you think Reg would want to kill me."

"It's not Reg," Harry snapped. "He's been possessed." He watched her reaction.

"By what?"

"That bit I genuinely don't know," Harry shrugged. "All I know is that whenever I get anywhere near you, it comes. It comes after you - not me, you. I don't know why, I don't know how it knows, but I do know that you will die if it touches you."

She frowned. "Harry, clearly, by my still being alive, it has never touched me. How do you know that that's what's going to happen."

"I don't, I guess," Harry sighed. "But it's a feeling I have. An instinct. You know me, Ginny," he added, looking directly into her eyes, "my instincts are normally correct. I've learnt to trust them."

Ginny watched him for a good few seconds. Eventually, she lowered the wand.

"Is that why you left?"

Harry nodded, slowly. "Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me, Harry, why didn't you include me? Did Ron know?"

"Yes."

She spluttered. She felt something molten hot forcing its way up her throat, and realised she was on the verge of tears. That just made her angrier.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked again. "Why?"

Harry couldn't see her cry. It couldn't happen. But he looked at her, and even though her face was dry she could see that he knew her insides were squirming.

"Because I didn't want to hurt you, or get you hurt. Ginny... I loved you."

She swallowed heavily. Before she could stop him, or stop herself, Harry crossed the room in two broad strides and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. She couldn't hold it in any more. Memories from the childhood with Harry were screaming inside her, thoughts of how close they had once been, and most powerful of all, a deep wrenching feeling of despair the likes of which she hadn't felt since Harry's first departure. And on top of that, she was going to die.

Furious with herself, she struggled out of Harry's tight grip and stumbled backwards. Perfectly aware that her face was stinging and blotchy from tears, she looked up at Harry. Then threw her weight behind her fist and swung at him.

He leapt back, dodging her throw narrowly, and grabbed her again, pinning her arms to her sides.

"Why didn't you tell me!" she yelled, wriggling. "I could have helped!"

"No, no you couldn't!" he retorted, forcing her down onto the bed. He stroked her back softly. "You could have got yourself killed. I couldn't take that risk."

"You hurt me, Harry. When you left you really hurt me."

Tucking a stray piece of cinnamon hair back behind her ear, he smiled. "I know, Ginny. And I am so sorry. But I still think that it was the right thing to do."

Ginny swiped his hand away from her back, panting.

Harry's eyes were searching her face softly.

"What?"

"You never let yourself feel, Ginny. You not?"

"You're one to lecture, Harry."

"Why not? Because it hurts less that way?"

"Yes! Yes, because I'm weak, I can't feel things without them hurting me, so I don't, alright!" Ginny glared at him. "Look at me, Harry. I haven't cried in years, and then you turn up, all of a sudden, and I'm in floods. You make me angry, Harry, you make me weak!"

"That's not being weak, Ginny, that's being human." He lent down and kissed her on the forehead. "Ginny..."

She looked up. "Yeah?"

"Did you ever think that the reason I make you angry is because you won't let me make you happy?"

Ginny smiled. "Your ego protected to the last, eh, Harry?" She rubbed her eyes. Meanwhile, Harry had dropped to his knees before her and was looking up at her through her fringe.

"I was never arrogant, my ego was never what was guiding me, Gin. I thought it was easier for you if I was crass and big-headed - if you liked me less then my leaving wouldn't hurt so much."

She snorted. "Well that worked out well," she laughed.

"Yeah, not so much," Harry replied, grinning, and pushing her hair out of her eyes. "I missed you, Ginny."

"Careful, you get too close and I could die, remember?" Ginny joked, but there was a note of genuine worry there.

"The... demon, I guess, that possesses Reggie can only be passed on through skin to skin contact. Reggie's out cold, and locked in the cupboard under the stairs. Ron's guarding him."

"My big brother is guarding your demon while you're up here wooing his little sister. That doesn't sound like Ron to me," Ginny smiled.

Harry, though, was serious. "You always do that, Ginny. Make jokes when things get hard."

She raised an eyebrow.

"See! You did it then!"

"Well... you know what I'm like with six brothers. Not my fault that that's all that springs to mind when you talk about thing's getting hard."

"I meant difficult."

"Oh, I know exactly what you meant, Harry." Ginny laughed again. She looked down into Harry's face. Gently she lifted a hand and traced the lightening scar etched into his forehead with her finger. "I knew you couldn't be so callous, Harry. I knew when you bragged about your scars. For years you hated this thing," she said, caressing the shape. "You'd feel the same about any more you got." Tearing her eyes away from the bolt of light, she noticed that Harry was looking at her with more intensity than she could remember him ever doing before.

Moving in a sort of daze, Ginny's hands slid downwards towards the hem of his T-shirt and slipped underneath. Her fingers trailed across his stomach, and it twitched involuntarily. Harry let out a pant near her collar bone, and she felt heat flood her stomach and spread outwards as she felt the breath across her skin.

* * *

Ron peered through a crack between the panels on the cupboard door. He could just make out the shape of Reggie, unconscious, through the darkness inside.

He wandered through to the kitchen and plonked a kettle on top of the shove, then waved his wand at it. Staring determinedly at the steam soon billowing jovially from the funnel, he tried to ignore the faintly sickened sensation in his stomach at the thought of what could have happened to Ginny had Harry not arrived in time.

He and Harry had been waiting for this to happen since Harry had returned. Of course, they had not told Ginny, but they'd been in contact for years. Hermione too had known Harry was considering returning to the Burrow after his time away, but she had warned that this brand of magic was unlikely to just wear off over time. She was always right - though the thought gave him no comfort in this instance.

As if summoned solely by his thoughts, the back door leading into the kitchen swung open and Hermione rushed in.

"Ronald Weasley! I told you something like this would happen!" she stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at him.

"Ginny and Harry are both fine, thanks for asking, they're upstairs, and Reggie's locked in the cupboard under the stairs."

"Oooh, they're upstairs?" she repeated, looking at him. "D'you think they're--"

"'Mione! I don't want to think about that, thanks!"

"Reggie's locked in the cupboard under the stairs?"

Ron smirked. "I see your grasp of prioritising has improved."

"This is not a joking matter, Ron!"

Ron laughed. "We've dealt with worse than this in the past, Herms, and we've always come through--"

Just then, there was a great scratching crash from the hall way, and they froze. Ron glanced down at his wife, who had whirled around to look in the direction of the door to the hall. They both drew their wands, slowly, from their pockets, and moved tentively towards the source of the noise. Ron's throat felt like it had swelled to twice it's normal size, and his chest was hammering madly. Pushing his arm out to shield Hermione, Ron peered around the corner into the hall way.

The door to the cupboard under the stairs was hanging off one of its hinges, and was completely empty.

"Shit!" he yelled.

"Language, Ron," Hermione muttered numbly, staring at the empty space.

* * *

_That's it for another time then - sorry, but I'm back at college now and that alway's makes updating... erratic, to say the least. But hey, I'll try my best. Comments greatly appreciated though._


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